LIVE from Shelbyville

Well, I do not usually blog when out of town, but for grins here I am. I am in rural Indiana, south of Indianapolis for my grandpa's 89th birthday. It was a tough schedule given what I need to accomplish this week while on “break,” but it was nice to share the day with him (sadly, my last living grandparent).

Tomorrow I head home and back to the grind. Hope all are doing well.

(This message courtesy of the wonders of AT&T 2.5G EDGE service on my iPhone in the middle of farmland… Ironically with a better signal than I get at my house since AT&T messed up my coverage.)

O Bitter Muse, Oft-Present Visitant

It has been awhile since I posted any of my poetry. This poem started to form in my mind a few weeks ago. Like Cassandra of the Greek tragic lore, the gift and curse of the poet (even a bad one) is being all too aware and yet unable to change things. Poetry is a form of catharsis; I think anyone who writes poetry reaches a point of nearly bursting in which the pressure can be relieved through only the writing of verse. Yet, my goal is never to release a poem for only that reason. I hope that this poem captures something more.

O bitter muse, oft-present visitant,
Thy inspiration bids for solace, “Write!”
Alas, all peace you assault and fast destroy.
Old dreaded guide, your fetid breath does creep,
Oppressive reminder of soft and tender times,
Of memories now past, the fading light.
Look not on me cruelly, oh Tragedy.
I called thy sister, Love, yet you arose,
O bitter muse, no more! But let me pour
Between your fingers fast, as water drops
A drop into the seas of time, fading,
To escape your hell filled ways less scathed.
You, like a plague, unhindered, ‘cross the land,
I sue, but you war ‘gainst me ceaselessly.
And so I practice my mysterious craft,
Assuming now the poet's gift and curse,
A sponge, I sop thy flood as best I can,
By grace of God, may I someday be rung,
And rest upon His hand, again be dry,
Before I drown in the e’er rising tide.

Incidentally, as it flowed, I found I had blank verse (unrhymed but metered). I do not write in blank verse typically, but it seemed to fit the mood of the poem.

Requiem to My Grandpa

The Death of Ivan Ilych is especially touching for those who have witnessed the prolonged suffering and death of a family member. Ilych increasingly becomes aware of his own mortality and how it is going to rob him of his “perfect” life.

It reminds me a lot of my grandfather. My grandfather was always a fixer of things and just a great person to be around. Few people that knew him did not love to be around him, and often people who had just met him would willingly spend long periods of time talking to him. He savored talking to people and would equally enjoy talking and spending time with both family and strangers who would lend an ear and time. He had a fascination with a great many things and lived what one could consider a really picturesque life, heading toward his eighties as a happy person enjoying his time in retirement.

It was a fire just about four years prior to his death that destroyed his picturesque existence. He became one that often had angry outbursts – like Ivan Ilych – and things seemed to fall apart around him. While my grandmother did not reciprocate with anger, the fire brought to the surface the beginnings of dementia that had not been apparent previously – thus, like Ilych, my grandfather was not only suffering because of his own problems, but also because of my grandmother’s problems.

The thing we did not know at the time was that the anger was actually being brought out as a side effect of the rare cancer that was developing inside of him. Like Ilych, symptoms – such as weakness and tiredness — started to become more apparent, and different doctors tried different solutions with different diagnoses for a good deal of time, until the real villain became apparent. Despite being told he had no hope, my grandfather refused to listen and continue to fight – just hoping to beat the unbeatable enemy within.

The worst symptoms came out about a year before his death and as they slowly ripped away parts of him, leaving less and less of the person we knew and loved and more of the angry person caused by the side effects of the disease to the brain, it reached the point where we – like Ilych’s family – desired less and less to be around my grandfather lest there be another violent outburst. It was a most cruel end to a most wonderful person.

In one of his more lucid moments, however, my grandfather related something very hopeful to my mother. He said his favorite season was always the fall, because fall represented a beginning. Consider this for a moment. After the spring, summer and bright early autumn colors of life, we reach what – at first – appears to be the beginning of the end. Yet it is only through the ending of life as we know it that we can really begin. Without the ending that is autumn, there can be no springtime of resurrection. As my grandfather himself worked through the fact that he was in the fall of his life, he eventually gained a new hope and peace recognizing he was heading forward to the springtime.

It is not being dead that needs to be feared, but the process of dying. Hope springs again, for we know the promise of the Father through the work of his son. Once we can get beyond the shedding of our leaves in a final burst of color, we make way for the innocence and wonder of spring.

You Found Me: The Fray and the Theology of Art

Unsurprisingly, I keep hearing the Fray's new single “You Found Me” (YouTube video). It's all over the radio. For some reason, I usually hit the tail end of it most of the time, but I've listened through it a few times and it has some pretty challenging lyrics worth considering theologically (but in a different way than I think you'd expect!).

It demands so much of my faith to keep believing, keep hoping in the unseen. Sometimes the tunnel has a light at the end, but usually they just look black as night. This song is about that feeling, and the hope that I still have, buried deep in my chest.

Slade's statement is helpful, I believe, within the realm of the theology of art. The elegy and the dirge, the mournful cry and the bold question, have been largely thrown out of Christian art in favor of fuzzy lambs and lyrics that are best described as cheesy. We ought to note many of these share far more in common with secular “soft rock” love songs than the Psalms or other Scriptures (and no, trying to apply “Song of Solomon” to God isn't a good way to wiggle out of this — that's not what that book is about).

What we need is more honesty. We need more songs that look at the difficulties of life as, well, difficult. Like Job and the Psalmists, we should be willing to ask respectful, but bold questions. We should weep over the fallenness of the world and the brokenness of relationships.

I found God
On the corner of first and Amistad
Where the west was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I Said where you been, he said ask anything
Where were you?
When everything was falling apart
All my days were spent by the telephone
It never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
To the corner of first and Amistad Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

Of course, if we stop there, if we never go beyond questioning God, that isn't healthy. But, when our music fails to meditate on the difficulties of life at all, it essentially is dishonest. This song expresses the sort of questions I think linger in each of our souls. When we are honest, that makes rejoicing later on all the more sweet.

It's time we revisit this point. Christians of the past were not afraid to express the full range of emotions, the hymnody of the past is rich with examples and literature produces thousands of examples of poetry that fits the point. In an imperfect world, we need to encourage the body of Christ to come forward and seek God's mercy with our actual life situations rather than pretending everything is perfect for an hour every Sunday morning. What we need to do is reemphasize a holistic view of life to the music written for worship and the poetry intended to be read.

We do not need more self-help books, but more God-help books. We cannot solve all of our problems any more than the Jews could solve their exile to Babylon. It took cries out to God — corporate and individual lament — and his mercy to bring them back to the Promised Land. As American Evangelicals we need to learn how to cry out to God corporately; doing so would be healthy and it would also model the properness of similar cries that we may make to God as individuals.

Speeding By

Time is really flying by at the moment. I've had a handful of major projects for seminary classes to turn in while at the same time busily working on a project to write a relatively substantial chapter for a book due in less than two weeks. Needless to say, I've been written out before I get to blogging.

But I miss it here. Never fear, I will return. (Ok, so maybe you should fear, then.)

Incidentally, I've been blogging here for seven years as of late last month!

Saturday Six on Photography

Here's a meme on a topic near and dear to me. Photography! Feel free to put your answers in the comments.

• Do you use a Digital or Film camera?

Digital — I've been all digital for seven years now.

• Do you print the photos yourself or get them printed for you?

Usually, I'll send them to Walgreen's. But I print very few photos.

• Do you upload your photos to sites such as fickr or photobucket?

I typically use my own photo album that I host, but it is down for the moment. I do post some photos to Facebook, since it helps with sharing them.

• Do you photo anything and everything or does your camera only come out on special occasions such as birthdays etc.?

Everything, of course. I feel sorry for cameras that only come out on special events.

• When was the last time you upgraded to a new camera?

December 2007 was when I moved up to my current Canon EOS 40D. It has been a great camera so far, with well over 10,000 photos shot on it. I have every intention of seeing how its 100,000 picture shutter rating works out.

• If you could have any camera on the market which one would you choose and why?

Probably the Canon 1Ds Mk III. Why? That's easy. It is one of the most powerful cameras on the market, fully weather sealed and full frame. And, since price wouldn't be an issue in this question, I might as well go for the top, right?

More practically, I'd probably lean towards the Canon 5D Mk II. Like the 1Ds series, it is full frame. But it is lighter weight, smaller, has the new DIGIC 4 processor and has a HD movie mode that really intrigues me. It would be a nice compliment to my 40D with its APS-sized sensor. In many ways, I'd probably use the 5D Mk II far more than I'd ever use the 1Ds Mk III.

Rick's Revolution

By now, probably everyone has caught it, but if you haven't, check out Rick Santelli's quite amazing “rant” while reporting for CNBC yesterday. It is quite a sight to behold and is a flashpoint that I think is on its way to being part of history.

The big question with “Rick's Revolution” is getting the Obama Administration to listen and rethink the idea that spending money that doesn't exist can actually help the people it wants to help. I read that Santelli has been invited to meet with the administration at White House, which is encouraging. Whether anything can come of it, of course, is questionable. But, hey…

The Times: Does Love Make You Sick?

One of my news hound friends who sends me whatever is going on in the news sent a quirky little piece from the Times of London appropriate for this weekend. The article is disappointingly cynical about love, but some of the quotes were good for amusement. I do have to deconstruct the conclusion and provide my own take on the matter, however.

Romantic love can be so confusing that sometimes you simply want to give up on the whole thing and concentrate on the nature of dark matter, or macroeconomics, or something else less tiring.

Any article that realizes that macroeconomics and love are roughly as comprehensible has something right. However, while macroeconomics has done vastly more harm than good (I'm looking at you, Lord Keynes), love is — despite the pain — ultimately a good thing as part of the creational intent for human beings. The pain may be a result of the Fall, but the Fall has not managed to totally corrupt God's handiwork.

Plato said that love is a mental disease. Modern researchers agree enthusiastically, categorising love as a form of madness and echoing what psychologists have been telling tearful patients for years. (There are certain shrinks who refuse to treat people in the early throes of love because they are too insane to do a thing with.) Currently, scientists are having a genteel academic squabble over whether love most closely resembles the manic phase of bipolar disorder or the characteristics seen in obsessive compulsive disorder.

Insane, indeed. For my money, I think OCD fits better than manic phases. Either way, if that was all one thought about love it might be reason to argue against it. Sadly, the author seems to find the whole idea of love troublesome enough to start arguing that at least certain key parts of it are mere cultural baggage,

The idea that every human heart, since the invention of the wheel, was yearning for its other half is a myth.

Well, maybe the author was right; that yearning doesn't go back to the wheel. It goes back further, to the Garden, to Adam. For all the splendor and goodness of God's creation, not everything was good. “The LORD God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him'” (Gen. 2.18 NIV). One of the three creational mandates for humanity from God is marriage and really the yearning of the heart is the yearning for Eden, the yearning to achieve the creational intent God has for us.

Some have questioned that intent's validity post-fall, especially in the present era. Yes, Adam and Eve enjoyed for awhile something more perfect than can exist in the fallen world, but that doesn't invalidate the creational design here any more than the difficulty of labor eliminates the properness of working or separation from God argues against worship. While the article raises some interesting points, outside of a creational understanding of the world, it ends up missing the point.

But, come on, the macroeconomics reference was amusing, wasn't it?

Spring and Snow

So, I was thinking I ought to take down the snow from this esteemed blog, but I may leave it up just a tad longer. This week has been a delightful showcase of what is to come for the spring with warm weather (warm enough for shorts!) and buds starting to appear on trees. But, this weekend the snow is suppose to return, so the blog snow remains somewhat appropriate.

It is still winter, after all.

I'm not quite sure what I like better, the beauty of a fresh fallen snow (when I have no place to go) or spring with its flowers and trees. I think I am ready for spring, but I am really in no hurry. Every season has its glories!

36 One Word Answers

Thanks go to Christopher for this, although he should have posted it on his blog. You can find his answers on Facebook. Feel free to answer this here or on Facebook — all of my friends can (and should) consider themselves tagged.

Now, it should be noted since the answers are one word, some of them are a bit… well, cryptic, and I even had to resort to slang like “dunno.” Gasp. Pray for me, O Shakespeare!

1. Where is your cell phone? Drawer
2. Your significant other? Hoping
3. Your hair? Brown
4. Your mother? Loving
5. Your father? Determined
6. Your favorite? Letters
7. Your dream last night? Bad
8. Your favorite drink? Water
9. Your dream/goal? 2
10. What room you are in? Bedroom
11. Your hobby? Photography
12. Your fear? Failing
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Missouri
14. Where were you last night? Desk
15. Something that you aren't? Charismatic
16. Muffins? Cornbread
17. Wish list item? TiltShift
18. Where you grew up? Missouri
19. Last thing you did? Wright
20. What are you wearing? Clothes
21. Your TV? Off
22. Your pets? Cat
23. Friends? Great
24. Your life? Blessed
25. Your mood? Thoughtful
26. Missing someone? No-ish
27. Car? Volkswagen
28. Something you're not wearing? Dayglo
29. Your favorite store? Amazon
30. Your favorite color? Green
31. When is the last time you laughed? Today
32. Last time you cried? Awhile
33. Who will resend this? Dunno
34. One place that I go to over and over? Bookstore
35. One person who emails me regularly? Jenny
36. My favorite place to eat? Outback